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Jody Lynn Vance: Her Father’s Remembrance

***Jody Lynn Vance: 1985-2011***

Jody was born at sunrise on a bright, sunny, cold, snowy Groundhog’s Day and from Day One she was a gift to everyone around her. Her infectious laugh and rambunctious spirit made her the center of attention where ever she happened to be.

She and her Dad would watch Sesame Street and sing at the top of our voices (and quite out of key) all of the songs. She enjoyed having Mom fix her hair so it was fancy and just right.

As a toddler she had quite an impressive vocabulary and often had a lot to say. One time Dad was headed out the door to go to work and she pointed her finger and said, “No. No. No. Don’t go anywhere!“

Jody was very seldom crabby, always happy and she wasted no time in spreading that joy to everyone around her. Jody’s favorite place was to be perched on the lap of Mom or Dad or playing with her toys spread out all over the floor. Jody was always affectionate, wanting hugs and “moochies” as she called smooches on the cheek.

At around two, Jody’s illness began to attack her. It took a beautiful, innocent child and put her through untold pain and suffering,

I know that through all of that she was not afraid. She had the heart and spirit of lion. She never gave up; time after countless time, she would open her eyes and there would come that smile. Jody lost her speech, but never was at a loss for words. She could say more with a look or a half smile than most people do yakking all day long.

After numerous doctor, hospital, and specialist visits, we were given the news of her illness. I remember that moment frozen in time … it was as if the entire world stopped. It was in that brief moment we both knew that we must make the very most of the time we had remaining together and not dwell on the despair of all of the things that would never be.

Jody was not expected to live more than three or so - but she had too many things to do and stories to tell, so she cruised by that birthday and over two more decades of birthdays, Christmases and millions of smiles and hugs. Jody was well-liked by other kids; once when she was being wheeled into her classroom at Handicare, one of the children yelled, “Hey everybody, Jody’s here” and all the kids cheered.

Two of the biggest joys in her life were her two little brothers, Joey and Sammy. She would just beam with joy when they would sit next to her and when they began to get older she’d love to listen to them running through the house and playing together. The two of them would start laughing and Jody would laugh right along with them. She would listen intently to everything they did and they would include her as often as they could. The three of them loved watching Saturday morning cartoons and The Three Stooges.

Joe and Sam did without a lot of things that other kids had, did and took for granted … and they never once complained or were resentful of the way things were. That shows a special kind of love and a special kind of family.

As the years went by and the boys grew up into strong and healthy, Jody’s health slowly and steadily declined. She would have long stretches where she was fairly stable and then would become so very ill.

Many times we were sure the end was near and then she would open those sparkling blue eyes and stretch just like nothing had happened at all.

Once she was in the hospital with her usual bout of pneumonia and lapsed into a coma; this went on for 8 days. One Dr. came in, examined her and just shook his head. Later that night Jody’s eyes popped open and she was refreshed from her cat- nap.

People over the years have commented, ”I don’t know how you do it. ”This always struck me as odd. My thoughts would always be: How could you even think of turning your back on someone who needs you that much?

It was always our promise to Jody that she would always live at home with her family and I think she found comfort in knowing that.

But, no one person can take the credit for caring for this wonderful young woman. It has taken an army of doctors, nurses, teachers, aides, pharmacists, friends, and family over the years to maintain Jody at home, and we could never begin to thank you enough.

Jody always kept her head held high and never seemed to be afraid; she has truly been my inspiration on many occasions. When things were gloomy and seemed hopeless, just one smile and a hug was all I needed to go on. Jody will always be my hero. I love her and will treasure the time we had together.

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1976 Mercedes Benz 300D – Rest in Peace

I saw the little green car yesterday; I went down to Vorderman’s to pay them for the last bit of work they did on it before we discovered the brakes were just not worth the money to repair, given the rust on the body . . . not to mention the duct tape on the driver’s side headlight bezel.

You know what, though, it’s little heart, its powerful heart – its engine – sounds so great – purring and and giving me that wonderful wake-up scent of diesel in the morning. It always wanted to run fast and smooth.

“You and me, AmeliaJake . . . You and me,” it seemed to say. I could hear it in the rhythm – in the controlled thunder of its chug.

A lot of people wouldn’t have had it – too old, dents, some rust; but I knew it was solid and upright and of good character.

But it is time to let it go and I wish I knew someone who could use the engine with its new fast start glow plugs. Somebody who has an old 1976 pristine 300D body that has been tucked away in someone’s garage. A car that looks so perfect, but harbors an engine that has also been let to sit. I’d say, “Here, take little greenie’s engine.”

Wait a minute! Maybe I’d say, “Sell me your chassis and little greenie and I will chug again, free as the wind . . . well, with maybe a little scent of diesel in that wind.

3 responses so far ↓

I loved my 240D, but I had to give it up when it couldn’t keep pace with intemperate freeway traffic in the Seattle area. I think I know how you feel. I sold it to a lady who promised to restore it. So far as I know, it’s still on blocks.

I have a pristine 1976 300D with 79,000 miles on it and would he interested in the engine and transmission if it is a four speed. Please sent me your contact information

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The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse

The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse is a real place - each person just perceives it a bit different from another. Or maybe a lot different, for all that I know. I'd say it would be a stretch to see it as modern, sleek nightclub, but I guess if you got a group of those folks lost out here in these parts, they could enjoy themselves sitting and talking and digging down in the soda pop cooler. The stove that we put wood in for heat - not the cooking kind - might take them aback, but it's a pretty fine thing on a cool morning come dawn or a cold winter day.
Most of us agree the floor is pretty much narrow hardwood, although we've got some big, wide and thick planks in a couple of areas. We've got a counter and stools and tables and chairs and I wouldn't say too many things match. Got a couple or big real rag rugs and a couple of fake Persian, threadbare they are. There's an aroma in the place, a mixture of woodsmoke and your favorite fragrance. Some swear it's citrus and sage, others insist it's macintosh and peach and every now and then we all agree it's the scent of rhubarb cooking down to a sauce.
We've got Friday, our dog, who used to live in meadow in Vermont until he died and came here. I guess technically he's a dog-angel - but we don't get technical here.
FRIDAY: